


By Any Means

by Merci



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Anal Sex, Drinking Games, Explicit Sexual Content, Fingerfucking, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Multiple Partners, Oral Sex, Rimming, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-28
Updated: 2009-11-28
Packaged: 2017-10-16 20:22:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/168984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merci/pseuds/Merci
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles calls in reinforcements to get a new album made.  Knubbler’s methods may be unconventional, but as long as they get the job done, he doesn’t care.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By Any Means

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lies_d](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lies_d/gifts).



> **Disclaimer:** I am making no profit from this fanfiction. I do not own Knubbler, Skwisgaar, Toki, Nathan, Pickles, Charles, Murderface, Mordhaus or any other things from and including the awesome show, Metalocalypse.
> 
> This was created as an exchange with my friend (and fellow librarian) Lies_d. We decided to exchange fics about Knubbler to encourage and support our love for the little guy. As per my usual, I went insane and decided to try an orgy. I hope you like this, girl. Please ignore my insecurities about this listed below ^_^
> 
> I’m not entirely happy with how the orgy turned out. I don’t know if it would have been better if it was all the guys connected in a dick-to-ass daisy chain, but this feels a bit disconnected somehow. Also, I adore Knubbler/Murderface and yet I gloss over that pairing here. What is wrong with me? Well, I do admit that the thought of Murderface/Charles/Knubbler does make me grin like a fool.
> 
> Also, this is my first serious foray into Metalocalypse fanfiction. I did my best with writing the accents. I’m a bit nervous about this… if this is your cup of tea, please enjoy. If not… uh, please don’t? :D
> 
> It's been a while since I finished any writing like this. It feels good... it also helps that I'm on a Knubbler kick so I want to see more of him. MOAR!

It had been the first week of Charles’ little crackdown on Mordhaus. None of the guys were interested in going anywhere near the recording studio and the CFO knew that it would take some strong tactics to get them motivated.

Skwisgaar was the one who complained the loudest when his supply of GMILFs were taken away from him, though Nathan and Pickles made their fair share of grumbling when all the booze suddenly went missing. Murderface and Toki suffered in silence, having become accustomed to nobody listening to their complaints anyway, and Charles was still nowhere near getting any of his boys into the recording studio.

The CFO sat back at his desk, steepling his fingers as he observed the bandmates on his monitor. They were weakened but not broken. He had made it clear to them that all the booze and GMILFs in the world were waiting for them if only they would record an album, but they still resisted. Their pride – or maybe stubbornness – made them hold out, and Charles’ patience was wearing as thin as their finances. He arched a brow; time to up the ante. He turned his attention from the security monitors and looked across his polished desk to the band’s producer.

Dick Knubbler’s robotic eyes shifted as they adjusted to the lowered lighting in Charles’ office. “The boys aren’t interested in recording anything, so, uh, why am I here?”

“They’re being stubborn,” Charles said, his voice rising on the last word. “Whenever I try to coax them to get to work they, ah, call me a robot. I’ve noticed you don’t take too kindly to them messing around. Maybe you could convince them.”

Knubbler folded his arms over his chest. “So, just because I don’t take their shit you’re gonna sic me on them?” His eyes flared from green to red for a moment. “That’s not my job.”

Charles’ expression grew darker as he peered across at the lanky producer. “You’ve been around the industry long enough; if you approach them one at a time you may be able to convince them separately. They’re… not very bright, I’m sure you can figure something out. Go after their weaknesses, things like that.”

The smaller man sat didn’t move, save for a thin, blonde eyebrow which raised above an electric-green eye. “What’s in it for me?”

“How does money sound?”

“I’m in.” Knubbler’s eyes widened for a moment as the magic word triggered his motivation to work. He looked again at the security monitor on Charles’ desk before standing and leaving the room.

The CFO sat back in his seat and continued to watch the screen as it flickered from one member of the band to the next. He poured himself a glass of brandy and waited.

+++

Dick Knubbler approached Toki first. The rhythm guitarist was easy to find and he had a good idea of what would convince the young man to help. He knocked lightly before opening the door to Toki’s room. There was not a speck of candy in sight; no pop bottles or even sugar packets. Charles’ embargo on all sweets in the house was nothing when compared with the restrictions on booze and drugs, but to a seasoned sugar-addict like Toki, it was enough to make him suffer the withdrawal.

“Uh, hi there, Toki. How ya doin’?” Knubbler took the buddy approach with the younger man and sat down on his bed. The mattress dipped under his weight and he looked over to the muscled body that was nearly hidden beneath a mountain of blankets.

“My head is hurts…” came the moaned reply.

Knubbler half-smirked at the pain in the voice and unbuttoned his Nehru jacket, reaching in for the contents of his breast pocket. The crinkle of plastic seemed to echo in the little room as his fingers closed around the candy bar. Toki immediately perked up at the noise and poked his head from beneath the covers, his eyes wide and hopeful. “You know, Toki,” Knubbler said, doing his best to remain cool under the watch of those hopeful, puppy dog eyes. “We really need to record this album. If you promise to record…”

“Gives to me chocolates,” Toki rasped, his arm shooting out for the rectangular confection wrapped in purple paper. “I dos it, just gives to me chocolates. Please?”

Knubbler let the large candy bar fall into the outstretched hands and he watched as the rhythm guitarist tore through the wrapper as if it were nothing. He deposited a couple more bars on the desk before walking out, letting the sugar-addict feed the candy-monkey that clung to his back. If only the rest of the guys would be so easy to bribe, but he had a feeling he would have to cajole them a bit more. After stopping in at his guest room to pick up some ammunition, Knubbler proceeded to the common room where he’d seen Nathan sulking on the couch.

The large singer was in a state similar to Toki’s, only he was suffering much louder. Sobriety was not an attractive look for him and the dark circles under his eyes seemed to gleam as he looked towards the producer. “What do you want, Dick?” Knubbler didn’t know if he was being insulted or addressed. He decided on the former and quickly produced the sixty-ounce bottle of Jack Daniels.

His plan involved a deal to exchange alcohol for studio time, but Dick quickly realized his mistake in tipping his hand so early. Nathan’s green eyes locked onto the bottle of caramel-coloured liquid and his feet hit the floor at a gallop as he charged forward. His hulking mass bore down on the producer, but luckily, Knubbler was spry enough to dodge the charging attack of the ex football player. He leapt to the side with surprising grace and spun around, ready to leap again as he tried to hold his ground. “Wait, Nathan!”

“Grrrugh! That fucking robot hid all my booze! Do you _know_ what that’s _like_ , to be _sober_?” He approached Knubbler with a menacing gait, looming over the shorter man in a bid to be as intimidating as possible.

Knubbler growled, feeling his vision click to red, and raised himself to his full height. “Back off, jack! Just how long do you think this _one_ , little bottle will last you? What happens when this is gone, huh?”

That stopped Nathan in his tracks as his brain tackled that scenario. The producer gave him a moment to grasp the idea before holding the bottle up once more. “Let’s make a deal. I give you all the booze you want if you get your lazy ass into the studio. Deal?”

“Guhhhh, uh… uhhh… fine!” Nathan looked sullen. “But it had better be awesome booze.” He snatched the bottle away and practically ripped the cap off with his teeth. He returned to the couch and proceeded to gulp back a few mouthfuls of alcohol before letting out a satisfied sigh.

Well, that was two down, three to go. Dick retrieved another bottle from his spacious pocket in anticipation of finding Pickles. The redhead chose that moment to stumble into the room and collapse on the couch beside Nathan.

“Heeeeeyyy,” he shot Nathan a lopsided grin. “You’ve got schom booze, too!” His green eyes were glazed with intoxication. “What are you guys doin’ in here?”

“Knubbler wants us--” the burly frontman stopped to take another gulp, slurring his words as his system raced with alcohol. “I-I’m going into the studio so I can get more booze! That asshole robot cockblocked all my booze!” Nathan made a fist at nobody in particular and paused for dramatic effect.

Pickles turned back to Knubbler, understanding gleaming in his drunken gaze. “Jeez, Knubbler. Yer trickin’ us wit’ booze? Wha, did Charlie put ya upta dis?” he slurred his words as he leered at the producer. “Have ya no shame?” he lifted his bottle to his lips and took a long gulp.

“No,” Knubbler said approaching the couch and sliding over to Pickles. He opened his own bottle and took a long drink – no sense in being the only sober person there. He had an idea and hoped his intuition was right. “I’ll even bet you that I’ve got less shame than you.”

“Ha!” Pickles laughed, the noise gurgling in his throat. “Ya got nothin’ on me.”

“Truth or dare.” Knubbler said, his robotic eyes zeroing in on his target. “If you refuse, you’ve gotta do what I say.”

Pickles’ head shot up and a dangerous glint twinkled in his eyes. “What are ya, twelve?” Suddenly, he didn’t look so drunk and he held his hand out towards the producer. “And if I win, ya gotta do what I sez. Deal?”

Dick Knubbler quickly took the drummer’s hand. His mind was racing with dares he could throw towards the other man. He just had to come up with something so horrible that Pickles would refuse.

“K’ey, I dare ya to blow Skwisgaar.” Pickles laughed and rolled back on the couch.

Dick Knubbler’s mouth hung open for a moment as the sudden challenge seemed to have muted all protests. “Wait wha—” His electric eyes couldn’t even focus on the other man and they buzzed in an infinite loop, glowing a questioning purple.

Pickles chuckled and took a drag off his cigarette while Knubbler quickly regained his composure and his eyes darkened to red. “That’s not how this works, Pickles. First I have to agree to dare--”

“If ya want me to go into th’ studio, I gotta see ya blowing that asshole’s dick.”

“But--”

The percussionist snorted and took a drink from his bottle. “It’s the only wey you’ll git me inta th’ studio… EVER…” he slurred his words forcefully.

“Fuck!” Knubbler’s hands clamped around the bottle in his hand. He was definitely too sober for this and took a long drink.

“Naw, ya don’t hafta fuck him, just _blow_ him.” Pickles pointed his finger, “Until _he blows_ … and I gotta watch so I know ya did it!”

“What?” Knubbler sprang to his feet. No amount of money was worth this.

“Yeah! I gotta watch, too!” Nathan roared, finding new energy from the alcoholic fuel in his belly.

“Ya can’t complain, Knubbler. Ya suggested truth or dare. Mebbe ya got more shame than I do?”

Knubbler scowled at the two men. “Fine, I’ll do it, but you had better be in that recording studio for as long as I need you there.” He tried to be threatening as he pointed a finger at Pickles and Nathan, but the drunken men seemed unfazed by the threat and only grinned. The producer swallowed a lump of apprehension and chased it down with a healthy gulp of rum.

+

Skwisgaar was in his room. Knubbler couldn’t see the guitarist in the darkened chamber, though the twangy sound of fast-plucked guitar strings was unmistakable. “Uh, Skwisgaar?” he called, feeling a bit too sober and lifting the bottle to fix that sensation. He hovered in the doorway for a moment longer before stepping inside. He left his shame in the hallway for Nathan and Pickles to enjoy as they hovered just out of sight of the Swede.

The near-silent guitar chords stopped, filling the producer’s ears with silence. His eyes buzzed, trying to focus in the low-lighting. He was almost afraid to change his vision to see in the dark. “Skwisg—”

“The fucks does you wants, Knubblers?” the gravelly voice of the lanky Swede cut him off. He sounded like shit.

“I, ah, just thought I’d check up on you, Skwisgaar. I know that Charles has you boys in lockdown and I wanted to see if I could, uh, do anything.” His robotic eyepieces clicked to night vision and the producer took in the sight of the man before him. His hair was mussed like he’d slept on it funny for the past three days and never brushed it out and he was naked – though it was hardly a secret that Skwisgaar slept that way.

“ _’Dos something’_ for me?” he asked, his lip curling up as he said it. “Yeah, you can get me some GMILFs up in heres!” Skwisgaar’s eyes went wide and he stood, letting his guitar fall to the floor. He stepped towards the producer but stumbled as his feet caught on the bed sheets that were bunched up on the ground. He toppled over in the darkness, his arms flailing about comically as he crashed to the ground.

Knubbler cringed as Skwisgaar landed, hearing the hollow sound his knees made on the stone and the pained cursing that followed. He might have felt badly for the other man if it weren’t for his purpose in being there. Knubbler churned over the process that had led him to this point: he wanted money, Charles Ofdensen would give it to him if he dragged Dethklok into the recording studio, and Pickles would only record an album if Knubbler fellated the band’s lead guitarist. The producer rubbed the back of his neck. After he finished with Skwisgaar, there was still the little matter of convincing him to record as well! He watched the depraved GMILF addict go through withdrawal and considered his next move. “I can’t sneak any old ladies into Mordhaus for you, Skwisgaar,” he started, watching the way the other blonde seemed to shudder at his words.

“Then what goods ares you?” he bit out. “Get outs of heres!”

“That doesn’t mean that I can’t help you through this,” Knubbler said carefully, feeling hope spark within him when he saw Skwisgaar’s attention was piqued. Dick shook his head when he realized what he was hopeful for. Wrapping his lips around an overly-used guitar-god’s phallus was not something he’d aspired to do, but with his small modicum of shame withering out in the hallway, what did he have to lose? He stepped towards the guitarist and knelt before him. The fact that Skwisgaar was already naked would be a great help and he eyed the cock that lay flaccid between the other man’s legs.

Skwisgaar sat inches away from Knubbler, oblivious to the producer’s intentions. While the guitar god nursed his injured knee, Dick took the opportunity to take hold of his thighs and push them apart. He pushed his fingers down the insides of Skwisgaar’s thighs, feeling success looming as the Swede was slow to react. He knelt between the long thighs and kneaded the taught muscles beneath the creamy-pale skin. He needed to make his proposal before be started and he stared in the darkness at Skwisgaar’s cock, just waiting for his kiss.

“What the fucks are you doings?” Skwisgaar tried to pull away, but Dick held him fast.

“I can help you, Skwisgaar. It’s dark in here, we can’t see each other,” he lied while stroking along the insides of his soft thighs. He tried to not think about what he was doing, or about Pickles and Nathan who were probably watching from out in the hallway. He just had to do this and get it over with and then he could wash away the memories with a bottle of Jack.

Booze would erase everything; the way the guitarist felt under him, the softness of his skin. Skwisgaar lived hard, but he was soft in all the right places. Knubbler leaned down, hovering just below Skwisgaar’s navel. He inhaled the musky scent of need that had been ignored for far too long. Jack would make him forget the feel of the Swede and the taste of his cock as he dragged his tongue along the stiffening organ. Once this was all over, Knubbler would forget everything. He hoped, anyway, and sighed as he wrapped his lips around the side of Skwisgaar’s cock.

“Knubblers? What is you doings?” The question was a mix of desperate and uncertain, but the hand that curled in his straight hair was confident and insisting. It guided Knubbler down, inching the cock past his lips and across his tongue. It pushed him further, demanding more as the cock-head ground against the back of his throat.

Dick swallowed, accepting the thick phallus into his throat. His lungs held a precious gulp of air and he did his best to swirl his tongue around the engorged cock that throbbed against his pallet. He felt Skwisgaar’s hands on the back of his head, holding him down and it was at that moment that things came into focus for the producer. _Sharp_ focus. Through his night-vision he had a bright view of a pale groin pressed up against his nose. The thick scent of the guitarist’s body filled his senses and it only intensified as the moments crawled past. He pushed back. His lungs begged for fresh air and Knubbler felt a scrap of dignity swelling within him. Skwisgaar didn’t see it coming as Dick pried his fingers away from his head. He slowly withdrew the penis from his throat and mouth, gulping for air and licking along the underside as it went.

“ _Knubblers?!_ ” Skwisgaar’s voice was a lovely cross of desperate and pissed. “Gets back to work, Knubblers. Don’ts be starting things you won’ts finish!”

“Skwisgaar, relax,” Knubbler said, taking the cock in a firm grip and stroking to maintain the guitarist’s attention. “I won’t stop, but you have to promise me something.”

“I-I won’ts…” the Swede ground his pelvis forward in the darkness, pushing closer and blindly trying to jam is dick into Knubbler’s mouth again.

“So, Charles has been keeping you celibate, eh?” Knubbler led him on, seeing victory in the way Skwisgaar’s body pushed towards him. He hoped Pickles was getting a good view of this. “How long has it been? A few weeks? Days? Hours?” He parted his lips and dragged his tongue around the tip once. Just once.

“You fucking dicks, don’t jerks me arounds!” Skwisgaar tried to grab him, but Knubbler could see the move coming an easily avoided it.

“Listen, Skwisgaar, let’s make a deal: if you will go into the recording studio with me, I’ll give you one of the best blowjobs you’ve ever had in your life.” He didn’t miss the incredulous expression that fell across the guitarist just then.

“Best ever? Ha, I’ve had millions-billions blowjobs from all of de skankies ladies.”

“Really?” Knubbler said, pinching the head and wrapping his long fingers around the shaft. The foreskin moved down, revealing the glans as he stroked down to the base. It tightened deliciously around Skwisgaar’s penis as Knubbler’s fist settled in a bed of golden curls. He left it there for a minute before releasing his hold and pulling back from the other man. “Maybe you’d better ask the GMILFs to give you a blowjob if they can do better…”

“Nos!” Skwisgaar sprang forward, digging his fingers into the thin producer’s shoulders. He sounded desperate and Knubbler reeled him in.

“Well, Skwisgaar, you know what the deal is. Are you in?”

“Yeaa,” came the reply, though it was more of a sigh. Knubbler sank forward once more, pressing his palms to the other man’s thighs, guiding them apart and revealing Skwisgaar’s groin in all its glory. His lips found their place around his cock and he had to fight back the smile as he pushed that meaty rod halfway down his throat. He was killing two birds with one stone with this simple act of oral sex. He was suddenly glad he’d gotten so much experience in this art on his way to the top. Any producer could find a band with a nice sound and try to make it sell, but when Dick threw some expert cocksucking in to sweeten his offer, he always got his way. He inhaled through his nose and increased the suction while bobbing his head up and down.

The sound that erupted from Skwisgaar was a smooth, wanton groan. The Swede had always been comfortable with his body and the sex that he attracted like a magnet. He didn’t hide his pleasured reaction when Knubbler swallowed the shaft down and reached up to tickle his balls. Really, there was more to sucking dick than half the groupies understood, and Dick knew all the tricks that would win him over.

“Oh gods, Knubblers…” Skwisgaar groaned as he dug his fingers through the producer’s thin hair with more sensuality than the older man had been expecting. “Jaaa, that’s the spot. Not so much teeth, thoughs…”

The mood about them was thick with sweat, heat, and definitely tinged with the pungent smell of arousal. Knubbler’s face was buried in the centre of Skwisgaar’s pleasure-centre while his own groin was admittedly feeling the effects of their encounter. Beyond the slurping sounds of his lips around the guitarist’s cock, Dick could hear the heavy breathing of the man above him, and beyond that, he could hear several voices in the hallway. Actually, it was just one voice.

“Oh my gods!” Toki’s squeal broadcast into the room perfectly, making Dick stiffen sharply. “Whys are you guys jerkings off in the hallways?!” Toki’s exclamation was a mix of surprise and anger and Knubbler’s throat tightened as he could sense the shit was about to hit the fan. He could smell it, even above the arousal that surrounded him. The door to Skwisgaar’s room creaked open as if in slow-motion and the light from the hall spilled in. It was followed by three bodies that tumbled in onto the floor in a mess.

They crashed to the ground in a peppering of moans, groans, and expletives. Pickles lay at the bottom of the pile, bitching about landing on his dick. Nathan was trying to roll off him, but was hampered by Toki’s form that made no effort to climb off.

The shit continued to spin on the proverbial fan, so much that even Skwisgaar was jarred from his pleasure. His fingers dug into Knubbler’s scalp and his stomach tightened. For all this distraction, Knubbler was somewhat pleased that he didn’t even miss a beat. Even as the sudden light stung his night-vision, he switched back to regular sight and flicked the Swede’s balls twice for good measure, even humming around the thick shaft that filled his mouth as the argument started above him.

“You only gives to me ice cream, but Skwisgaar gets blow jobs?” Toki’s indignant question echoed in Knubbler’s mind and he angled one of his eyes over to see what was coming.

What he saw sent a chill of worry through his fuck-addled mind as Toki stormed over to him. Behind the pissed-off rhythm guitarist, Nathan and Pickles were picking themselves up off the floor and dusting off each other’s erections in the process. The first inklings of an orgy crossed the producer’s mind, but those were shoved aside as immediate thoughts of ‘oh fuck, my pants!’ replaced them. Toki wasn’t gentle as he removed Dick’s pants and roughly fondled his ass through his boxers.

Knubbler tried to withdraw from Skwisgaar’s dick, but the lead guitarist was having none of it. “Hey, Knubblers, you ever beens on the spit roast with two guys before?” Skwisgaar’s voice was thick with arousal and his fingers were firm on his head while his pelvis jutted upward to reclaim the back of Dick’s throat.

The producer only had a second to pray that Toki used some lubricant before his underwear was torn away and he felt the solid heat of the Norwegian behind him. That solid, fleshy dick pressed against the bare crack of his ass and Dick’s heart fluttered somewhere high in his chest while his own cock remained caught somewhere in the mess of underwear that didn’t make it down past his groin.

“Toki,” Skwisgaar’s voice was a solid rock in the sea of hormones and erection that filled Knubbler’s senses. It was the voice of an angel instructing Toki to get the lubricant from his dresser and prepare the producer’s ass before fucking it. Dick nearly leaned his ass into Toki’s hands when he returned. _Nearly._ He had to remember to try and control this, well, as much as he could control two men who were content to fuck his two orifices. He had made a deal with all of them, including Pickles and Nathan who had moved in from the hallway and had rolled onto the bed.

Knubbler jolted forward onto Skwisgaar’s dick as Toki roughly fingered his ass. The callous build-up on the rhythm-guitarist’s fingers didn’t go unnoticed by Dick who couldn’t hold back a throaty groan of approval. The Norwegian started with two fingers and quickly moved on to three, each digit thoroughly slicked with more than enough lubricant, which Dick was grateful for when he saw the girth of Toki’s erection. The youngest member of the group was hung none-too-lightly and once he’d finished preparing Knubbler’s ass, he used both hands to spread the liquid around his cock, pushing the foreskin back and rubbing it deep along every fold of skin. His hips rocked back and forth, sliding his cock into his grip and he muttered something throaty in his native tongue.

Knubbler looked back to Skwisgaar’s erection. As impressive as it was, it was woefully average compared to Toki’s manhood. He could feel Toki touching his ass and he tensed up; as loose as he’d lived in the 70s, Dick felt unprepared for what was to come. Luckily, Skwisgaar seemed to realize this sudden nervousness and intervened.

“Knubblers… please stop biting my penis. Toki, stretch him furthers before he goes to crybabies lands for real good reasons.”

Dick sighed happily around the Swede’s cock as Toki’s whine of disappointment rumbled through the air. He lapped along the shaft in a way of thanking his saviour as Toki proceeded to finger him again, stretching him further and deeper than before. The producer’s electric eyes darted over to Pickles and Nathan who were settling quite comfortably onto Skwisgaar’s bed.

“Hey, unless _I’m_ the ones fuckings you, get out of my beds,” Skwisgaar commanded, accentuating the ‘fuckings’ with a gyration that left Dick almost gagging.

“How about ya can fuck me afterwards,” Pickles laughed from where he was sprawled out on the bare mattress. Knubbler’s eyes could see the detail so perfectly, so fine. The way Pickles’ dreadlocks were tossed upon the white sheets made him look like some forgotten doll that had been flung onto the guitarist’s bed. However, Pickles was anything but ‘forgotten’ as Nathan leaned over him, nearly covering the smaller man with his strong body. The lead singer’s black hair fell about his face as he ground down into the drummer, biting his throat and roughly touching his body. Their naked forms fit together like matching pieces of some delicious jigsaw puzzle.

Neither man was looking at Knubbler, which sent a shiver of satisfaction through the producer. He left one eye trained on the show on the bed – grateful that his implants could record it for later enjoyment – and turned back to the penis before him. Toki was taking his time stretching him, and Knubbler paid sober attention to the younger man’s ministrations. As horny as he might have been, he wanted to walk when this was all over, and no amount of money was worth being ripped apart by a giant cock.

He could feel three fingers moving within him, pulling his sphincter open and massaging the anal walls deep inside him. “Are you likings this, Kunbbler?” Toki asked, failing to hide his impatience.

The producer hummed around Skwisgaar’s cock and wriggled his ass back at the other man.

“That’s an affirmatives, Tokis,” Skwisgaar said. He was doing a phenomenal job of holding his load and Knubbler wondered if he’d ever blow. “How wide can you be spreadings him?”

Knubbler halted in his blowjob as he felt Toki’s rough fingers wrench him open, testing the limits of his ass. The younger man forced his legs apart and dug his fingers into intimate spots where fingers ought not to go… normally. Knubbler bore the discomfort of Toki’s eagerness to prepare him.

“Is he beings ready for you?” Skwisgaar asked the other guitarist.

“Jaa, he’s pretty bigs in the asses, Skwisgaar,” Toki replied. Knubbler ignored it all and just waited for the monster-cock to enter him.

He didn’t have to wait long.

The moment he felt the fleshy head pushing against his sphincter he withdrew from the Swede’s cock. “Hey, be careful back there!”

“Ohh, Skwisgaar, I’s hurting him. What do I dos? I really want to fucks!”

“Fuck him slows!” came the order. “He will bites my dick off if you don’ts!”

“Jaaa, fine,” came the sullen reply. Toki switched gears from rabid-fuck-mode to lightly-poking-with-a-sausage. He continued to inch deeper inside the producer at a speed that was more acceptable, but no-less infuriating.

With his mouth trapped around Skwisgaar’s cock, and Toki behind the wheel of his ass’s wellbeing, Knubbler felt more than a little apprehension burning within him. It took all his willpower to relax. Skwisgaar loosened his grip in his hair and Dick sighed around his cock as Toki eased his way inside his body. Slowly, awkwardly, it was all coming together.

Their change of pace slowed their orgy to a crawl, but Knubbler was eternally grateful in his fuck-addled mind that the Norwegian had enough self-control to go slowly. Even when his cock was buried balls-deep in his ass – yes, he could feel them – he waited. Knubbler exhaled deeply through his nose and focused on relaxing. There was enough lubrication to prevent any uncomfortable friction and all the producer had to do was push back on the thick cock that throbbed within him. Once he felt himself begin to adjust, he could enjoy how delicious it all was.

Nathan and Pickles were still busy on the bed, and while Skwisgaar might have said something about what they were doing to his sheets, they didn’t seem to care. Knubbler was temporarily entranced by the sloppily-sensual way they moved together; Pickles screamed drunkenly from the bed as Nathan rolled on top of him. The Wisconsinite’s slurred voice muttered something about an elbow to the balls and rimming being metal. Dick continued to watch them, but couldn’t concentrate on hearing the exact details. Nathan pushed Pickles’ legs up high above his head. Dick braced himself before Skwisgaar and carefully slicked his fingers with the saliva that was dripping from his mouth. Nathan bowed over the drummer, planting his mouth somewhere between Pickles’ cock and tailbone, sending the redhead shrieking in pleasure.

He was outside of their actions, only observing Pickles’ leg curling up at just the right angle, trapping Nathan’s face against his ass and writhing for more. Knubbler groaned around Skwisgaar’s cock as he watched. Pickles’ expression was more controlled; his eyes were squeezed shut as he tossed his head to the side. His dreadlocks splayed around him in a burning-red halo of sin. He worried his lip between his teeth as his entire body shuddered under the vocalist’s solid body and seemingly-skilled tongue.

“You ready yet, Knubblers?” Skwisgaar’s question was breathy and full of desire.

Dick nodded once and slurped along the cock that filled his mouth. He continued to slicken his own fingers for later while the two guitarists planned their next move.

Skwisgaar said something in Swedish to the younger guitarist. Knubbler didn’t understand the words, but he could hear the meaning in the tone. He could understand in the way Toki grabbed his hips and began thrusting into him with passionate fervor. His movements were still careful, but that decreased as feeling took over they were swept up in sensations bordering on ecstasy.

Knubbler shuddered and slurped upon the cock in his mouth. His sucking had become languid and delayed, though Skwisgaar seemed too distracted to care. Toki was moving shallowly within him as well and a quick glance upward showed Knubbler that the two guitarists had begun a sloppy and drunken kiss. Their mouths meshed together leaving their groins to work things out on their own. Much like their owners, the Scandinavian cocks weren’t very bright or coordinated and seemed to flounder when left to their own devices.

Knubbler tried revitalizing things on his own, but what had started as aggressive fucking from either end had petered down to slow, uncoordinated thrusting that threw Dick’s own rhythm completely off. He could feel the guitarist’s long fingers digging into his hair, holding his head steady while he continued to tongue-fuck Toki. Knubbler was impressed with Skwisgaar’s ability to multitask. The distraction was probably what was keeping him from blowing his load, even after the tongue-bath his cock was receiving. Well, Knubbler thought, two could play at that game. He moved his hand between Skwisgaar’s legs.

The Swede’s grunts of pleasure turned into a shocked mewling noise. “What the fucks are you doings?!” He tried to pull his hips away, but the producer held on tight, keeping the other man’s cock in his throat while he worked a spit-slicked finger between Skwisgaar’s legs. The guitarist’s balls got in the way, but once he’d navigated around them, he found there was only a pair of tightly-clenched ass cheeks blocking his finger from success.

“Heys, Skwisgaar. Looks like Pickle likes de anil… anuli… likes havings his bum licked!” Toki squealed excitedly and grabbed the other man and jarring Knubbler forward in the process. Skwisgaar faltered in his anal-defenses and Knubbler was too-skilled to let the guitarist’s slack ass cheeks keep him away from his goal. Skwisgaar tried to recover, but it was too late as he cursed and writhed beneath Knubbler’s ministrations. One spit-slick finger moved against that tight ass, losing lubrication along the way but that was all part of the plan. The rough treatment was having its effect and Knubbler would be damned if he fucked this up by not blowing Skwisgaar to completion – losing the deal to his lead guitarist and drummer in the process. He knew the surprise of being fingered would either turn the other man off or push him over the edge, and Knubbler was banking on the latter as he continued to suck the Swede’s cock deeply into his throat. He bobbed his head one, two, three times and then came up for air. His fingers moved against the lightly-resisting muscle. Somewhere in the background Nathan was growling threateningly and Pickles was laughing. Knubbler focused on his task and wriggled his finger as if his paycheque depended on it, which it did. As he prayed his fingernail wasn’t ruining the experience as he caressed the taught underside of Skwisgaar’s cock with his tongue. He’d known so few people who could resist the dual-assault, Knubbler hoped the sex-starved lothario was not one of them. Knubbler knew the Swede’s orgasm was imminent by the way he tensed above him. He did not expect it to be so violent.

Well, violent for _him_ , anyway.

The long fingers roughened by hours of guitar-playing dug into his scalp, forcing him hard and deep onto the throbbing cock. He repressed his gag-reflex for all he was worth as he felt the thick spurts of come hitting the back of his throat. Skwisgaar’s asshole spasmed around his finger and Knubbler wriggled it about for good measure.

Toki didn’t relent as this was happening. He gripped Knubbler’s hips with a ferocious need that the producer was sure would leave bruising later. Dick swallowed thickly before withdrawing from Skwisgaar’s erection and thought; it would take some skillful bait-and-switch to get Toki to stop pounding into his ass. Luckily, for Knubbler, Skwisgaar was lost in some post-orgasm haze and vulnerable to manipulation. He continued his assault on the Swede’s ass, pushing his fingers in deep to stretch him wider, massaging the welcoming opening for larger things. _Much_ larger things. He had little time left, but after decades of pleasing demanding rockstars, Knubbler was a boss at preparing asses.

Toki continued ramming into him, his force increasing with every thrust. While Knubbler’s own lustful need quivered between his legs, his survival instinct insisted he get away from the horny Norwegian. Knubbler needed a solid plan of escape, but his mind only offered up a few soggy ideas of how to connect Toki’s dick up with Skwisgaar’s ass.

In one swift movement he reached back to grab onto Toki’s hand and yanked him forward. The movement caught the rhythm-guitarist off-guard and gave the producer enough time to push him back and disengage himself from the penetrating cock. Toki fell to the ground with an umpfh, landing on his bare ass with his thick cock glistening between his legs. With Skwisgaar still dazed from his orgasm, Knubbler pushed him over with more ease and quickly crawled over top of him.

With loud Norwegian being muttered behind him, Knubbler guided Skwisgaar to lie back and spread his legs. The producer pushed them against Skwisgaar’s chest, revealing the pale, skinny ass of the fastest guitarist alive. He leaned in and pressed his tongue against the tender opening he’d been fingering. The muscle was loose with excitement and he chanced a look back at Toki. The rhythm guitarist’s eyes were dark with desire and wide as they watched Knubbler work Skwisgaar’s ass. His muscles flexed as he gripped his cock as if he were reigning in a wild horse. He hovered close, dropping to his knees and crawling over to watch the way that Knubbler swirled his tongue across the guitarist’s ass. Skwisgaar’s protests turned to groans. His cock was still solid against his abdomen and he rolled his hips, moving his ass against Dick’s tongue. It took a few minutes of skilled poking and prodding with mouth and fingers before it seemed like Skwisgaar was even remotely ready for anything larger.

Knubbler inserted three fingers, being sure to spread them wide and stretch the other man. Toki was hovering behind him, his anger seemingly lost as he only had eyes for Skwisgaar. Dick made a show of what he was doing until he reached back to take hold of Toki’s cock. The Norwegian’s shaft was rock-solid, ready for Skwisgaar. Knubbler quickly reached for the lubricant that Toki had used earlier and applied it generously to Skwisgaar’s ass.

He chanced a glance over to the bed where things were progressing. He couldn’t see the details, but Pickles angled his hips up in such a way and Nathan’s tell-tale expression screamed he was balls-deep in the percussionist’s ass. Nathan rocked Pickles’ entire body into Skwisgaar’s mattress, trapping the drummer between Spartan comfort and a drunken fucking machine.

Knubbler felt his cock twitch at the sight before he returned to his own situation. The rhythm guitarist moved closer and gently guided the tip of his cock to the lead guitarist’s ass. Knubbler fell to the side as his pants were still twisted around his thighs and caught around his erection. He rolled away as Toki began slow, rhythmic fucking that made Skwisgaar moan in his lovely tenor.

Knubbler wrestled with his remaining clothing, victoriously kicking his pants to the ground as Toki and Skwisgaar found their rhythm and Nathan and Pickles were still fucking quite contentedly on the bed. He was tempted to join, but thought it might be wiser just to leave. The producer stepped cautiously around the couples, picking up his clothing in the hopes of making an escape and taming his erection by himself. His bare feet felt cold against the floor as he backed away from the mass of fucking bodies, his clothing in a ball and clutched to his chest. There was still another band member to convince, and with the way things worked around Mordhaus, Knubbler just knew it would take something else just as fucked up to get Murderface on board with a new album. He just hoped he could make it to his room before he saw the other man.

No such luck.

Murderface stood in the door looking a healthy mix of pissed and dejected. “You’re all having an orgy and you didn’t invite me?!”

Knubbler’s heart thudded in his chest. His mind whirled with excuses but he just as quickly gave up and dropped his clothes to the floor. Well, he was caught and there was no point in hiding it. He sighed and approached the other man, deciding naked was the best way to get the other man on board. He smiled as he wiped spit and come from the side of his mouth. “Say, Murderface… what can, uh, I do to get you into the recording studio to make a new album?”

“Invite me to the fucking orgy!”

Knubbler moved closer to the other man, pressing his hand to Murderface’s thick chest. “The orgy is over. Can I do anything else?”

“Let’sch have our own orgy! Where’sch our pet robot?” He grabbed Dick and tossed the lanky, sweaty, _naked_ producer over his shoulder.

Knubbler sighed and went with it as Murderface carried him up the hallway. He’d done what he could to get this album made, it was time Charles put in some effort as well.

Charles, who had been observing events through the security cameras, didn’t know what to expect when Murderface burst through his office door moments later. His surprise didn’t show even as the bassist tossed their producer over the edge of his desk. It took greater effort to hide his reaction when Murderface pulled him over his desk and roughly kissed him.

After all was said and done, if the album was recorded, then it was worth it.


End file.
